


Anything But That

by WevyrDove



Series: The Tragic History of Castiel and Crowley [2]
Category: Supernatural, crowstiel - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Crowcifer - Freeform, Crowley and Castiel's secret relationship, Deleted Scenes, M/M, Rape, Season 11 Spoilers, Torture, bottom!Crowley, casifer (castiel as lucifer's vessel), crowstiel, established crowstiel, top!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:53:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6397216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WevyrDove/pseuds/WevyrDove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoiler Alert: Set in Season 11. Takes place during and between 11.10 and 11.14.</p><p>When Castiel offers himself as Lucifer's vessel, Crowley is the one that suffers the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything But That

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Sweet Readers,
> 
> I'm back, baby. Sorta at least. It's been a month since I last wrote anything...so hiatus over. I'm also caught up on season 11, and happy to say I am enjoying it so far. 
> 
> I love the idea of Casifer (as in Lucifer using Castiel as a vessel, rather than the ship), and I'm also a big Crowstiel shipper. So I combined them.
> 
> I'll probably update this as the season goes on and there's more interaction between Casifer and Crowley.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Love you guys,  
> Wevyr

Castiel strode into the room, looking ragged. Crowley took in his appearance, his heart constricting in his chest for a moment. He had to wait until the others were gone, despite how much he wanted to go to the angel right now. That was the way they had promised each other it would be. The only way it would work without bringing chaos upon them all. Or rather, more chaos…there was certainly enough already with the Darkness on the loose.

Instead, Crowley forced his face into a condescending sneer and said, “Oh good, the angel is here.”

His eyes met Castiel’s briefly, and he could tell that Castiel was in pain. He could sense it, and he ached to heal the wounds. But again, he had to restrain himself. He was vaguely aware of the conversation Dean and Castiel were having concerning Amara.

“…she sent this message…” Castiel was saying. He pulled his trenchcoat open, tugging his shirt open along with it. Crowley nearly choked when he saw what was underneath. Castiel’s skin, the skin that Crowley had spent hours worshipping, had been rended and broken cruelly with the words ‘I am coming’.

He swallowed the bile back down and forced his voice to normalize as best he could. “I am coming. Is that a threat?”

It was all he could do not to carry his angel away now, heal his wounds and kiss it all away. He cursed the presence of his mother and Dean.

…

Later, when they were alone, they sat together on the bed as Crowley smoothed Castiel’s wounds away with his touch, and he bent his head to kiss where they had been. Castiel sighed and put his hands on Crowley’s head, petting the demon as he continued to nuzzle at his chest. Castiel was surprised to feel tears against his skin.

“Shhh.” Castiel soothed. He placed a hand under Crowley’s chin and tipped it up so the demon would look up at him. Crowley sniffed loudly.

“Why did you have to go?” Crowley growled, his anger masking the fear he had felt. He hated that the angel had seen him crying. Tears were so distastefully human. But Castiel adored humanity, and he comforted himself with that fact; the angel wouldn’t never tease him about showing emotion.

“I had to see for myself.” Castiel murmured, letting Crowley bury his face back in his chest. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“She is the Darkness.” Crowley said, his voice muffled against Castiel’s skin. “I was a fool to think I ever had a handle on her.”

“You’ve beaten yourself up about that enough.” Castiel admonished gently. “Besides, I did the same, thinking that she might be gone, or at least weakened.”

“Let’s not talk about her anymore.” Crowley said, lifting his head.

Castiel kissed him, and for a short while, they did forget about the Darkness.

…

It was awful, feeling so helpless as he watched Lucifer punch Castiel again and again. He clenched his hands impotently, urging his mother to hurry with the spell. Rowena didn’t even bother to answer, but merely glared at him for a moment before she continued. And now Lucifer was looming over the angel, and Crowley was ready to throw himself into the cell with them, the rules be damned, he didn’t care if it meant saving Castiel.

But at the last possible minute, his mother came through, the final incantation spoken, and Lucifer disappearing in a blinding flash of light. Crowley nearly collapsed with relief, bracing himself against the nearby stone wall. Rowena gave a smug smile and held herself primly, reveling in her success.

Once they were all out of the cell, Crowley once again wished for the freedom to fling himself at Castiel, check his angel over for his hurts, but Sam and Dean and his mother were still there. He half listened as they discussed the Darkness. He was out of patience.

“We’re done. Team up over.” Crowley snapped. Then for the sake of appearances he told them all to get the ‘hell out of hell’, even though he wanted Castiel to stay. Castiel would know that. They would meet up later.

…

Even before Castiel spoke, Crowley sensed something was wrong. The way his angel’s eyes were overly bright. The fact that he had come back when he knew Rowena was still there.

“Castiel?” Crowley said uncertainly.

“Guess again.” Castiel laughed, and leered at him.

Crowley’s heart sank. This was not his Castiel. And there was only one other explanation. He spoke in horror. “No.”

“Lucifer.” Rowena named him, her voice sweet and sycophantic, draping herself over Castiel, who was not Castiel. Crowley was still sputtering that it couldn’t be. But then it was revealed that the spell had been too late, and Castiel had accepted Lucifer into himself.

 _Why, Castiel?_ Crowley raged in his mind. But he knew why Castiel had done it when Sam refused. They were so powerless against the Darkness, desperate enough to try anything. Crowley cursed the angel’s willingness to sacrifice himself, over and over again.

Crowley watched Rowena and Lucifer, frozen with horror and disgust for a moment. Then he realized he had to get out of here before Lucifer turned his attention to him.

But before he could move, Lucifer lifted his hand and Crowley was slammed against the hard stone wall, the breath knocked out of him, more in shock than in pain from the impact. He watched in stunned silence as Lucifer, petted his mother, praising her for her loyalty. Crowley felt sick as he watched Castiel – _Lucifer_ , he corrected himself – lean in to kiss his mother.

When he snapped her neck, Crowley couldn’t pretend or hope that Castiel hadn’t relinquished total control to Lucifer. Castiel would never hurt anyone unless they deserved it, even Rowena. Crowley swallowed hard, remembering how they had joked about Castiel smiting his mother. But Castiel had always reminded Crowley that without Rowena, Crowley wouldn’t even exist, and for that Castiel would always be grateful. And as much as he hated his mother, there was a small part that felt an allegiance to her and perhaps even loved her. He was surprised by the anguish he felt as Lucifer laughed.

Lucifer dropped Rowena’s body and then advanced on Crowley. Crowley cowered, trying to make himself smaller, as if that would do anything to keep him safe. This was so much worse than if Lucifer had taken a different vessel; the garish smile on Castiel’s face was so wrong.

“Okay, let’s chat.” Lucifer drawled.

Crowley wanted to be anywhere but here. Somehow Lucifer held him in place, not allowing him to blink himself out of hell, to some far off island. He cringed as Lucifer’s feet stopped in front of him, shielding himself with his hands. He was afraid to look.

He nearly jumped when he felt the hand on his neck. He braced himself for violence, but instead the hand merely stroked lightly.

“Shhhh.” Lucifer soothed. He had crouched in front of Crowley. Crowley cracked on eye open and saw Castiel’s blue eyes, his pupils blown wide, a feverish light within them. Crowley shuddered.

Lucifer leaned close to his ear, his lips barely brushing Crowley’s skin. “You should hear how he’s screaming. Screaming from that corner I’ve put him away in. It seems like he doesn’t want me to hurt you.” Lucifer’s voice turned thoughtful. “Now why would that be?”

Lucifer continued to stroke Crowley’s neck, and Crowley wished he would simply get on with it, instead of torturing him. Crowley would prefer pain to the soft touches that Lucifer continued to give him; a mockery of Castiel’s loving caresses.

“Well, well.” Lucifer laughed, lifting his hand from Crowley’s neck. “Castiel tried to hide it from me, but I am so much stronger. Who would have thought? The King of Hell and the Heaven’s favorite angel, _in flagrante delicto_.”

Lucifer grabbed the front of Crowley’s suit and hauled him up by the lapels. Crowley gasped as Lucifer pressed him against the wall. Crowley turned his head so he wouldn’t have to look into the devil’s face. Lucifer kept him pinned up with one hand, while the other hand grabbed his chin and forced him to look.

Suddenly Lucifer’s face contorted and changed into a look of sorrow and regret. “I’m so sorry, Crowley. Please, I told him not to hurt you..”

It was Castiel for a moment, and Crowley’s eyes filled with tears. Castiel’s eyes rolled back and he convulsed for a moment, then shook his head as if to clear it.

“Ugh!” Lucifer spat distastefully. “Not gonna let that happen again.” He leered at Crowley. “I’ve locked your boyfriend up so tight that he has no chance of coming back up again. Now it’s time to play.” Lucifer bent his head close to Crowley’s and the demon flinched, his eyes closed, bracing for the devil’s touch.

“Oh, and Crowley.” Lucifer paused, his lips brushing the edge of Crowley’s mouth. “I’m making sure that Castiel watches _everything_. Front row and center.”

Crowley let the tears fall.

…

Crowley was slumped on the floor, his arms and legs in chains. There was a spiked collar around his neck, and he touched it with his hands, the sharp points pierced his skin and his fingers came away bloody. He ached all over. He tried to keep his mind blank but the horror was still so fresh. The gashes had been healed with the wave of Lucifer’s hand, but the pain lingered.

Lucifer had forced Crowley to strip and stand facing the wall with his palms braced against it, his legs spread, and then whipped him until he bled. Crowley would not give him the satisfaction of hearing him cry or beg. He growled and grunted behind his clenched teeth, his back on fire from the harsh blows.

But that hadn’t been the most humiliating part of his punishment. Just before Crowley thought his legs would give way under him- they were shaking so much with the effort of bracing himself upright – Lucifer stopped the whip. Crowley tried to catch his breath, and slumped down onto the floor, careful not to let his broken skin touch anything. He wiped the sweat from his face, feeling chilled now that he wasn’t focused on the next snap of the whip. He wished he could have his clothing back. He was beyond exhausted, and his eyes started to slip closed, despite the pain he was in.

“Oh no.” Lucifer chided. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Lucifer grabbed Crowley beneath the arms and hauled him up, indifferent to the pain he was causing the demon. When he pressed Crowley against the wall, Lucifer made sure that every inch of his ruined back was pressed against the rough stone. Crowley finally cried out at that point, the pain worse now as the pressure was applied against his wounds. He stared as Lucifer smiled at his suffering, the expression so jarring on Castiel’s face. _It’s not Castiel_ , he reminded himself, but it was so hard to look, to see disgust and disdain in the place of love and reverence. This would be so much easier if Lucifer was wearing his old meatsuit.

Crowley knew that worse things were to come when Lucifer relented and stopped pushing him against the wall, even stepping back a pace. His expression softened and he let his voice pitch low and gravelly, and Crowley wanted so badly to believe that Castiel was back; except he knew better, and still there was that feverish, insane light in those blue eyes.

“Oh Crowley.” Lucifer purred. “We could be so good together. If you just stop fighting, and bow down before your true king.”

Crowley gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Never.” He hissed.

“Pity.” Lucifer shrugged. He lifted his hand and Crowley cringed.

The blow he expected never happened. Instead, he felt the lightest touch on his cheek, almost loving. Crowley looked up fearfully. Lucifer stepped closer, and put his other hand on his cheek, holding Crowley’s face and tilting it up. Crowley trembled, afraid of these gentle touches more than any brutality that Lucifer had shown him already.

“Shhhh.” Lucifer shushed.

Crowley felt the familiar brush of his lover’s lips on his own, and couldn’t help responding and kissing him back, despite the protests and warnings in his mind. He had meant to keep his eyes open, but they slipped closed. It might be Lucifer, but it felt like Castiel.  

When a hand slipped between his legs and stroked, Crowley moaned against the lips and tongue that continued to press against his own. He hardened quickly in Lucifer’s grasp, his mind still protesting, but his body ignoring what he knew. Lucifer smiled against his lips, and continued to stroke Crowley.

“Oh Cas…” Crowley gasped automatically, as his body strained toward its peak, the wounds on his back momentarily forgotten.

“Cas?” Lucifer growled. A look of anger crossed his face and Crowley was jolted from the haze of desire. He tried to push away, but Lucifer grabbed his arms and slammed him against the wall once more.

“I am Lucifer.” The devil roared in Crowley’s face. Crowley couldn’t help the whimper that escaped, his back once again on fire. “And you are mine now.”

Lucifer turned him roughly so he faced the wall and forced Crowley’s arms above his head and together against the wall, holding them there with an invisible force. He pulled Crowley’s hips back, and kicked his legs apart. Crowley shook with fear and Lucifer laughed. Crowley heard the clink of a buckle and then the sound of a zipper.

“No..” Crowley gasped. “Please…Anything but this. Whip me again, anything.” He didn’t want this. He didn’t want Lucifer to destroy his beautiful memories of being with Castiel.

“I’m sorry, I don’t need permission to enter your vessel.” Lucifer snickered.  

Crowley felt Lucifer press against his back, and he tensed. Lucifer stepped back and then without warning, without prep, he slammed himself into Crowley. Crowley screamed with pain as Lucifer violated him. He didn’t want to think about the tearing. He gritted his teeth as Lucifer continued, grunting with every thrust. Crowley was only grateful he didn’t have to look at Castiel’s face as Lucifer ruined him.

“You’re my bitch now.” Lucifer snarled, punctuating his words with an especially deep thrust.

Crowley refused to answer. Tears streamed down his face as he thought of Castiel locked away, unable to do anything but watch.

_I’m so sorry, Castiel…_

…

Crowley cowered when he heard Lucifer call for him. It was humiliating enough to be in chains, but now Lucifer had dressed him in the worst type of clothes – something a tourist would wear – an ill fitting t-shirt and baggy pants. Now he was paraded in front of his former subjects, and he tried not to show any reaction.

“How dare you.” Crowley forced himself to speak. The demons didn’t need to know what Lucifer had done behind closed doors. Let them think that the chains and the clothes were the worst part of his punishment. He would go through the charade, pretend to be outraged, even though he was already cowed.

“Good doggy.” Lucifer praised.

Crowley tried to ignore the epithet, but it only brought on memories of Castiel trying different pet names on him. His heart ached as he remembered how they had been lying in bed together and Castiel had asked it. He remembered how he had laughed when Castiel had suggested “puppy” as a counterpoint to “kitten”, Crowley’s nickname for him. There was a sick irony that Lucifer now referred to him as “doggy”.

Crowley was relieved when Lucifer moved onto other matters. Although Crowley was forced to remain on display and watch as his demons hung on the devil’s every word, Lucifer ignored him. Crowley kept his expression blank. He would lay low, be as obedient as possible. Somehow he and Castiel would get through this. He would never admit it aloud, but he wished the Winchesters were here, right now. Even if they didn’t care for Crowley, they loved Castiel, and they would help him.

Until then, he just needed to survive.


End file.
